This story is dedicated to all the men who knew what I was before I did, and taught me to live the life I'd want to write about! If you enjoy reading Nifty as much as I'm enjoying telling my story, please make a donation to the website: http://donate.nifty.org/ Humbly, Danny. mrkonigssub@gmail.com
Chapter 9
I'd been sitting on the floor in my old room, the servant's quarters in Mr. Konig's house, for a long time. I didn't know if the door was locked. I never tried it. I was told to wait, which meant it was as good as locked; I wouldn't dare disobey an order. I've never been placed in physical chastity, I've never worn a cock cage or a chasity lock. I've never needed to. When I'm given orders to not come, I don't come. When a sub is trained well, locks are not needed. The order is enough.
But I needed to pee. I was pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Should I piss in the corner? That would not be allowed, so, trembling, I stood and pissed myself, the urine soaking my jock and shorts, running down my legs, wetting my socks and shoes. I took off my tank top and tried to mop up any piss that made it to the floor. I was standing there, half naked, holding my tank top that was wet with piss, when the door to my room burst open in blinding light.
It happened incredibly fast. I'd raised my hands to my face to block the bright light, I remember that, when I felt strong hands grabbing my wrists, forcing my arms down and behind my back. I dropped my wet tank top as my wrists were cuffed together, and a hood was pulled over my head. My eyes were still burning from the lights as my panicked breath filled the hood with hot air. The hands gripped me by my upper arms and I was forced forward, stumbling out of the room, banging my shoulders on the door frame. I heard our footsteps on the kitchen floor, then on the patio to the back alley. Two men, maybe three, were forcing me out of Mr. Konig's house. I felt the sunshine on my arms and legs, then suddenly my body was lifted off the ground. I was dropped face forward onto a padded floor. I heard the slamming of metal doors behind me, and the sound of an engine revving. I was in some kind of truck or van, I realized. The vehicle pulled forward, making my body roll side to side on the padding. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, so I spread my legs to try to steady myself from rolling from side to side. My heart was pounding in my chest.
I could tell we turned onto the main road, the one I walk to the gym, but after a few minutes and a couple turns, I could no longer visualize where we were. Time was hard to measure as well. Had we been driving for five minutes? Fifteen minutes? Fifty? The sound of my breathing into the thick hood made everything muddled in my mind. My wrists ached from the tight cuffs, my face rubbed against the inside of the hood, my wet jock chafed my cock and balls. At one point I passed out. For how long, I have no idea. I came to, still face down with my hands behind my back. The only thing I was sure of was that we had stopped. I strained to listen, but all I could hear was my breathing as it filled the hood over my face.
I heard the sound of a latch being lifted and I could hear the metal van doors being opened behind me. "Look!" a deep voice said. "The faggot pissed himself." Hands grabbed at the ankles of my boots, and my body was quickly pulled out of the van and onto what felt like a gurney. The air around me was warm, and the sounds I could make out seemed to echo on distant walls. Another man's voice, from nearby, barked, "Strip him and wash him, then bring him to my office." I heard the sounds of heavy boots walking away, followed by a door opening then closing in the distance.
A pair of hands held my shoulders down as someone untied and removed my combat boots, then pulled my shorts and jock down and off my legs. "That's a sweet looking ass, boy," the voice near my face growled in my ear through the hood. "Maybe we'll get to fuck it when we're done."
The two men pushed me off the gurney and forced me to stand, naked, my hands still behind my back. The hood was pulled off, and even though the light in the room was dim, it still took my eyes a moment to adjust to what I saw. I was in a warehouse of some kind. The walls were high and made of concrete, a dark metal ceiling loomed above. Three large, muscular, shaved-headed men in black guard uniforms surrounded me. One, in front of me, was holding the hood and leering at me. "A sweet looking mouth, too." He reached for his zipper. "It'll look even better wrapped around my cock."
Just then the two men behind me shove me down on my knees. The man in front of me stepped forward, pulling out a fat, rock hard, cut cock. He waved it in my face and said, "Open up, faggot." I met his cock with my lips and felt it forced into my mouth. The man gripped the back of my neck, and locked my head down on his dick. I heard a click and a buzzing sound behind me. Cold metal pressed on the top of my head, and my skin vibrated. One of the men behind me was pressing electric clippers to my head. The man with his meat in my mouth pressed forward. "Focus on my cock, faggot. Don't move."
I held perfectly still, my hands still cuffed, keeping my head and body focused entirely on the cock in my mouth. The clippers worked their way up my skull, mowing away my hair and scraping at my scalp. "Better not bite me, fag," the man laughed cruelly as I began to sweat from fear and exertion. Just when my knees began to tremble, the buzzing stopped. The man moved his hand to my head and rubbed my now bald scalp aggressively. "Nice and smooth." He pulled his cock out and slapped my head with his mitts. "That's how a cocksucker should look."
The men behind me pulled me up to my feet and the cuffs were taken off my wrists. The boss of the group, the big one who'd shoved his cock in my mouth, said, "Let's get this one cleaned up, boys. Inside and out."
The three men shoved me into a shower room, a concrete box with an open drain on the floor. Hoses with spray nozzles lay on the floor. The boss of the group pushed me into a corner, and the three men each picked up a sprayer and aimed at me. Laughing, they pulled the triggers of the sprayers, and powerful jets of warm water pelted my bare skin. I held my hands to block my face and eyes as the men hosed me down. They took turns aiming their jets at my cock and balls, my ass, and my nipples. The jet stung my scrotum, and stabbed at my asshole. I writhed and twisted, trying to block the streams. After several moments, the boss dropped his sprayer, and picked up a hose with a metal wand attachment. His fellow guards turned off their jets, and he walked over to my soaking wet, naked body. One put me in a headlock as the other forced my legs open. The boss grabbed my balls roughly, making me bend over in pain. Quickly, he worked the metal rod into my hole, and turned on a stream of warm water. I felt it begin to fill my insides. "Hold it in until I say, fag," the boss barked as I felt my guts swell. Just when I felt I couldn't take any more, the rod was pulled out of my hole and the man holding my head twisted my body so that my ass was aimed at the drain. The boss slapped my ass roughly. "Now, faggot!"
A stream of warm water shot out of me, spraying into the drain. I was relieved to be free of the pressure inside me, but when the jet of water subsided, the rod was inserted in my ass again, and my guts were filled once more. After three rounds, the men released me and I dropped to the wet floor, panting.
"Hold him for me boys, I want to fuck his clean pussy." The two guards held my wet body as the boss mounted me from behind, shoving his still-hard cock into my newly washed out ass. He pounded my hole hard, driving his fat meat to the hilt, then pulling out completely before impaling me again. He continued his brutal fucking until finally he sunk himself deeply, bucking and growling, and his hot come flooded into me. He pulled out and walked in front of me. "Clean off my cock, fag," he said as he shoved his still hard cock, slick with his come, into my mouth. The taste of his warm load filled my mouth. Behind me, one of the guards unzipped and fucked my hole. As the guard pumped his dick into me, his thrusts shoved the boss's cock deeper into my mouth. After a few minutes I felt another wave of jizz shoot into me. The guard pulled out of my hole and brought his cummy cock to my face. The boss stepped aside, and the newly spent cock was shoved my mouth, as the third guard mounted me from behind. "Fuck that whore ass!" the boss ordered as the next man fucked me intensely. My ass was fully lubed by the first two breedings. Soon a third load was being shot into me as the boss slapped my freshly shaven head. "Fuck yeah, faggot! Take that come!" When the third guard was finished breeding me, he squatted down, his wet cock hanging from the open fly of his uniform. "Crawl over and clean off his cock," the boss commanded. On my hands and knees, my cum filled ass in the air, I crawled to the spent cock and licked it clean of three round's worth of come. As I worked on the second guard's cock, the boss shoved two of his fingers in my hole. He felt around inside me, wetting his fingers with the three loads, then pulled them out. He put his hand up to my face and ordered me to lick his fingers clean. When he'd fished all of the come out, he grabbed my chin and lifted my face to meet his. "I think this fag's ready for his first assignment." I looked at the powerful man, with steely eyes and a shaved head, his strong jaw and his mean looking smirk. I looked down at the black uniform shirt, with a patch on the left shoulder. Black on black, I hadn't made out the emblem that decorated the guards' uniforms until now: a circular ring of heavy chain.